The Hidden Time Lord
by lotus-brody
Summary: The Doctor discovers a fob watch with Gallifreyan writing owned by the Captain. A series of drabbles connecting the Doctor and Jack while the Doctor fights the urge to wake him. Mainly 10-centric. Eventual Jack/Doctor
1. Chapter 1

I don't normally do drabbles, but this story has been in my head for some time and this was the only good format with which to present it. It may evolve into longer chapters, but for now this will do. If ratings, or any subject material changes, I'll be sure to notify. Also, it will contain spoilers of the various episodes and scenarios. I'll try to warn for all of them, but there will probably be a few over the course of this story. Hopefully it works out :)

Also (clearly) I don't own the Doc.

And please review if you like it, it will make me update more!

1. 

When the wooden blue doors had opened, no one on board had any idea where they were. The Doctor had hit the randomizer again, despite Rose's protests. After all, the last time they had ended up being chased by wolf-like creatures on Klaaz II and Jack had nearly been eaten. The countryside spread out before them, deep green and rocky. The trees in the distance were covered with pink, fluffy blossoms. Grass rippled in the breeze. In the distance there was a tall, wooden structure.

The Doctor bounded out on the grass, spun once, and turned and grinned back at Jack and Rose, who were stepping hesitantly outside and blinking in the bright light.

"Well, from the looks of those buildings, Japan!" said the Doctor. He shaded his eyes a moment. "Looks like the Imperial Temple! We're outside of Kyoto."

There was a beeping from behind him from Jack's vortex manipulator. "Earth Date 1336.165, otherwise known as June 13th, 1336," said the Time Agent.

"Feels like it's about... ten in the morning."

"And that's relevant how?" Rose's voice drifted from behind the TARDIS.

The Doctor shrugged. "Just feels like it. Well, Japan 1336... I guess we can't go pop out for a cuppa here."

"Why not?" she said as she came up behind him.

"The Japanese are a bit xenophobic before the early 1900's," said the Doctor, his tone light and airy as he started to jog down the hill in front of them.

"So why are we going for a walk when a samurai could chop off our heads?"

He spun around and grinned. "Because it's ten in the morning and a beautiful day."

She laughed and shook her head, and followed him. Jack, smiling and watching the two of them with that enigmatic look in his eyes, started after them.

They stopped by a tranquil pond amongst the cherry trees that were about a mile from the ship. Rose went walking amongst the branches and the falling petals, twirling and laughing, delighted. Jack and the Doctor leaned up against a trunk together, watching her, making small talk about the pros and cons of visiting the Earth colony on Rajad.

"It's nice," defended Jack. "I picked up my compact laser deluxe there. Wicked spaceport, lots of cool tech. I might be able to find a new battery for my sonic blaster."

The Doctor hadn't bothered telling Jack he could recharge the battery in a second. "I'd still rather go and catch the first performance of, say, Hamlet."

"Hamlet-shmamlet, Rose has been wanting to go shopping somewhere off-Earth."

While they were talking, Jack was fidgeting with something in his pocket while he was staring up at the flowers. He pulled his hand out of his pocket, an ancient, tarnished fob watch in his fingers. The Doctor couldn't breathe, and his respiratory bypass had to kick in while he watched Jack twist the watch, still staring off into the distance, like he had no idea what he was doing. He couldn't clearly see the lid of the watch, but he saw an intricate weaving of circles that made his blood run cold.

A Chameleon Arch device. A fob watch which held all the memories, and the DNA, of a Time Lord, was in the hands of a rogue Time Agent. A much deadlier Time Agent than he let on, at that.

"Where did you get that watch?" the Doctor asked, going for casual.

Jack started. "Watch?" he glanced down, like he was surprised he was holding anything at all. "Oh, this. Years ago, I guess. Hand-me-down from my dad?" As he spoke his eyes slid off of the watch cover like it wasn't even there.

"May I see it?"

"It's broken. Hasn't worked in my memory," said Jack, holding it out without looking at it.

The Doctor took it. The watch was warm in his fingers, which meant the owner was still alive, somewhere. He felt a thrill go through him as words and whispers echoed up and down through his mind. Warm words, like Jack's voice, and others, drifted through the cracks in his mind. He winced slightly at the sound of Rassilon's voice, and a shiver of dread rolled up his spine. He twisted the watch to peer at the cover. Words, in Gallifreyan, were scribed on the top.

Jack's voice screamed through his mind, and the psychic equivalent of a burst of light.

Jack Harkness was a Time Lord.

Rassilon's voice was like a death knell. _"For the Good, you will be our Eyes."_

The Doctor's hand shook.

_"Free me."_Jack's voice, so soft, pleaded in the furthest reaches of his mind.

"Here," he said, handing it back. His mind was flying over the endless possibilities of how and why. Time was so fickle, so strange. A few years for Jack, fifty years for him, none of it mattered. Jack had escaped somehow, or had been sent away. Rassilon had something to do with it. The thought of his manipulative reach stretching beyond the Time Lock made him sick.

Jack pocketed it, uncaring. The perception filter was still working. Jack had no idea of what he held. They had to get back to the TARDIS. It was impossible to say without further examination of the watch how old Jack's Time Lord self was, but he had to wake him up. The idea that he wasn't the last of his kind was like a drug thundering through his brain.

He was about to bound up and cancel their little trip when fate decided to do it for him. There was a steady rumble of hooves and yelling voices. Rose was running towards them, her blonde hair streaming behind her.

"Doctor! I think someone saw me!"

Swearing, he bounded up, Jack on his heels. He clasped her hand and turned for the hill. Angry voices were getting closer, the hooves louder, as they dashed for the TARDIS. He looked over at Jack, who was trying to fight the exhilaration off of his face. He reached out and took his hand. Jack looked at him, confused, before he grinned. The Doctor's hearts pounded.

He was no longer alone. It was really too bad about the bloody transmat beam.


	2. Chapter 2

Based from the episode 'Bad Wolf', series 1, ep 12

2. 

The Doctor watched Jack wire the extrapolator to the defence system, manipulating the wires, ignoring the commotion around him. He wondered if he should take the watch from him, bring him back. Two heads were better than one. But there was no telling who Jack had been before, or even how far along his training had been in the academy, what regeneration he was on, if any. Too much risk. It hurt, though. They were going to die. The Delta Wave would never be reformed in time to save anyone's life. He was going to make that painful decision to kill his race again, and kill humankind into the bargain. At least he knew that someone had survived, if even for a short while. Now he was going to die, with the last of his kind, and they didn't even know it.

Rose worked on stripping the wires, giving it her all, trying not to mess up. She believed they would get through it. Such beautiful hope the human race had. It almost made you forget they were stupid little apes that could barely walk without falling. They were a shining beacon, an amazing race that grew and grew and lived on and on no matter what the hardship.

Jack turned to the others in the area, explaining the situation. Lying. Bullets would never make it through their shields. The eye stalk was their only hope, and one bullet in two thousand would strike. Jack was already making out to be a good Time Lord. False hope, when there was none. Inspiring, charismatic, manipulative. Just like him. He fiddled with the main console, adjusting frequencies with his sonic.

He looked back at Rose, the innocent soul that had pulled him from the brink. Fifty years had been such a long time alone. He let out a long breath.

If he couldn't rely on the wave, he had to fulfill his promise to Jackie. Rose wasn't going to like it.

He glanced up when he felt eyes on him. Jack was watching him.

For all the glamour, all the flirting, and the air-head act, there was more to Jack. He was dangerous, a con man, a man who'd stop at nothing to get the job done, no matter the cost. He was also perceptive. He saw more of him than he'd care to admit.

Jack stepped closer to the Doctor. "Save her," he said. "If you can."

The Doctor nodded. "I promise."

Jack started to turn away, but the Doctor stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"When this is over, if we survive," said the Doctor, trying to let out an easy breath, "I have something important to discuss."

Jack grinned, but it didn't touch his eyes. He was worried. "Alright."

"For now, just trust me," said the Doctor.

"Always," said Jack.


	3. Chapter 3

Based off of 'The Parting of the Ways', series 1, ep 13

3. 

Rose blazed, hotter than a sun. The energy twisted around her, swirled, and the Doctor could only stare, transfixed, as she manipulated the very fabric of space and time, and destroyed the Daleks. He felt every time line vaporize with the barest flicker of her mind. He stood in awe before her, not a vengeful God, but a girl, trying to hold on to what she held dear, the purest act of love in her hands. The TARDIS and Rose, merged into one body, the Big Bad Wolf.

_"I bring life,"_she said, and the Doctor could have screamed in agony.

_ANYTHING BUT THAT!_

A billion timelines converged onto a single point, causing first a flicker, then a surge of energy into the lifeless form of Jack Harkness, a lost Time Lord, and the vortex heaved. The Doctor felt the breath of life like a physical blow to his mind and body. In the hall where he had died, cocky and defiant, a monster woke up amongst the dust, and the possibility of there being one more, just one more Time Lord, died with that first gasp.

The only thing which drew him away from that thought was Rose, dying in front of him with all the knowledge and the power of the universe pounding in her head.

And when the vortex was within him and released, he carried Rose's limp form to the TARDIS. He glanced back to the closed hall, his heart aching.

"Jack, I'm sorry."

He could never wake him up, and he prayed that no one would notice his watch, never point it out, that the perception filter would remain intact. A Time Lord with that much access to vortex energy without burning would go insane with power, turning into an evil god.

He closed the doors of the TARDIS, the death of his species renewed after his brief flickering of hope, and laid Rose on the floor. He stumbled to the controls of the ship, the regeneration threatening to burst from him at any second, and started the dematerialization sequence. He glanced at Rose, the burning energy searing his veins as every cell died within his body.

He'd keep his promise.

He closed his eyes, feeling the fixed point, feeling the TARDIS's fear at the proximity.

And he knew he'd have to keep running, all his life. The temptation to have one of his own kind back could mean the destruction of the universe. Jack was a good man. He didn't want to see him, twisted and corrupted by power, unleashed upon the world.

As hard as it was, he forced his thoughts away as Rose stirred, and he shut away his hope.


	4. Chapter 4

He couldn't help it. He just lied. He looked into her wide, curious eyes, and lied. About his planet, about his people. For the briefest of moments he could still see the red grass and expansive gardens about the academy, could still see the mighty citadel, and it had made him feel good.

But when he looked on the Face of Boe, he felt it in his hearts. They were gone.

And so was Jack.

So he fought to keep the wise, beautiful alien alive, to preserve the species.

And when the glass cracked, and the Face of Boe gave his last surge of energy, the Doctor had felt his hearts break. He looked on the last relic of an ancient race, and he wished in some small, desperate corner of his soul, that he was the one lying there.

Then the secret had come, and the Doctor shuddered. He knew he wasn't alone. And he knew he could never allow himself to fix the problem.

And when Martha asked again, this time about that mighty secret, he lied again.

He knew exactly what the Face of Boe was telling him.

Back in the TARDIS, hearts sore from telling part of the truth of the Time War to Martha in the rainy alleyway, he leaned over the console, the weight of Gallifrey on his back. With one quick twitch of the hand he could find the captain. After all, he was a beacon of light that the Doctor could see if he focused. The TARDIS herself would have no trouble. Jack was as soaked in artron energy as she was. Just a couple quick motions, a psychic affirmation to the TARDIS, and Jack would get a little surprise. Sure, he might rant and rave a little, but he'd get talked around...

_No. _He gritted his teeth, shook his head, and entered the coordinates for another jaunt into earth's past. He decided on an era that breathed Jack Harkness, the 1930's. He'd return to the London Blitz if Martha didn't accuse him of _rebounding _with her. It would be good just to lose himself in a memory for a short while. As he fought the urge to try and return to that last fractured piece of the Time War, he smiled at Martha, promising her another treat. After all, New New York had ended up with her stuck in a car, so it really couldn't be counted as a trip. At least, that was the lie he was telling them both.

Without her to stabilize him - and she was a very good anchor to keep him from going overboard - he had no idea what he might do.

And later, after the Daleks (_again) _and Lazarus, he tried to sleep and could only think of Jack. His hearts ached and he touched the cold sheets next to him and decided, if chance ever brought them together and the Doctor could run no more, he'd return the kiss.


	5. Chapter 5

John Smith had fought so hard not to die. He could remember just by shutting his eyes, that tiny spark of life. Defiant, desperate to live and to keep holding on to Joan Redfern. He wondered if, in the back of his mind, it had been wrong not to wake Jack up on the Game Station. Now Jack would doubtless be older, perhaps even older than his Time Lord self. Even if Jack didn't go insane from the energies, he wouldn't want to open the watch. If after only months of life John Smith had raged, what would Jack do with decades?

Why would he want to lose years of himself to a man he had no idea existed? That Time Lord, whomever he was, could be anyone. A pawn, a tool, of Rassilon and the council. Some key to bringing back Gallifrey, and he shuddered at the thought. Even if he wanted to see her alive and well again the idea made him sick. The bureaucracy was stifling, and its people old, wasted, set in their ways. Oh, but the planet. If one looked around the council and saw the good of that old planet it would make his heart sing to have her come back. But if Jack was a way to break the Time Lock, then they'd return to their downward spiral, so determined to hold onto their power of Time and Space that they'd commit genocide on every other race in the galaxy.

So here the Doctor was, calmly committing it day after day as he denied the existence of Jack Harkness, knowing it was the right thing that Jack should stay human for the sake of the universe, and dying by inches in the meantime.

The TARDIS could see Jack like a mighty pillar, and in her awe and fear of him she occasionally sent silent questions in disjointed emotions of fear and apprehension. Even without the words, the Doctor had no trouble translating what she meant.

_How long before we can't run anymore?_

_How long before he finds us?_


	6. Chapter 6

If the wound had been closed he might have been able to say it had been reopened. But as Martha walked around the console moaning about Cardiff, the Doctor berated himself for trusting in a quick gas up in rift energy left over from what looked like the biggest tear in space and time he'd seen yet. Jack Harkness was running full tilt for the TARDIS, and the Doctor's hands threatened to still, to wait, and even the ship held her breath, expectant, waiting, afraid of Jack, and hoping he'd stay away, and hoping he'd come on board.

Then his hands were moving. No. He knew that Jack must have done something exponential to seal the rift. It was soaked in artron energy, the kind which flowed from him, so Jack was healing, hurting from whatever had happened. He'd be damaged, possibly he'd want to stay. And the Doctor wouldn't be able to resist asking about the damn watch.

The TARDIS began to dematerialize, then spark and heave. The Doctor hung on, trying to keep himself from being flung head first into anything while Martha screamed beside him.

The numbers on the screen flashed by, swirling. The years piled up, and still the TARDIS continued in a crash course with some unseen future, waiting for them.

The TARDIS heaved and settled, and the Doctor and Martha stared at each other. It was so dangerous it didn't bear thinking about.

They ran for the door to check it out.

It really should have occurred to him that Jack would follow. Of course the silly ass had held on to the outside of the TARDIS. And of course, he'd died. And even though he could see the energy building up, concentrating, getting ready to force the life back into him, it still threatened to rip him open to see him lying still upon the ground.

When had he started to love Jack so much?

The first tense moments, expecting to have his lip busted open because it was the least he deserved, had his teeth on edge, and he wanted to be civil but could hardly manage it. It was like being in a mine shaft, and then having a beam of light blared in your eyes. A beam of light that wanted to throttle you, and was as bright as the heart of a sun. Then Jack hugged him, and his skin tingled through all the layers he wore because of the energy that seemed to crackle around Jack like he was a lightning rod. He smiled, the first one to feel like it really belonged on his face in what felt like a year, broke through.

He wondered if he'd have the strength not to open the watch this time.

The next thing he knew they were running again. Even this far in the future, when all the stars were dead and they were on a cold little planet left with nothing but old monoliths and a city-turned-mausoleum, they were still running for their lives. The Doctor felt hysterical with relief as he remembered the samurai's with their impressive katana's screaming for the 'yellow-haired oni,' their last death defying run together, and fought the urge to take Jack's hand. This time there were creatures with pointed teeth and demented eyes, but the song essentially remained the same.

In the Silo mankind clung to life, and it was inspiring. Professor Yana, brilliant and determined, only bolstered it. It gave him hope, and put a little bit of life back in him to see everyone working together, trying to form a future when there clearly was none to be had. He was even surprised to notice he was jealous when Jack flirted with others, and wondered if he had any right to be.

When Martha and Chan'Tho left to make tea, and Yana left to talk to the Silo officials, Jack and the Doctor were left alone. Jack was examining some of the professors instruments, while the Doctor looked over his writings.

He glanced at Jack. It didn't burn, but his stomach twisted with how wrong he was. Like time was shuddering around him.

The Doctor set down the notes and sat down on Yana's small rest area. Jack watched him out of the corner of his eyes.

"You know, in all the time we travelled, I never asked much about you. Where are you from?" the Doctor asked, going for light.

Now Jack looked suspicious. "The Boeshane Peninsula," said Jack, "an Earth Colony. One of the first."

"Never been," he said, pretending to be distracted by a bit of tech. "Is it nice?"

"It was before it was destroyed in an invasion," said Jack. "I grew up there with my family."

The Doctor remembered how the TARDIS had filled his head with facts, and no hints of real memories, when he'd been hidden away. What were Jack's?

"Oceans?" he murmured.

"As far as the eye can see. I could swim before I could walk. We went fishing for boeshane tuna every weekend. It was what we lived on for the most part. Why?"

So he had real memories. How could Jack be a Time Lord, and have memories of his childhood? It wasn't a barrage of facts and figures. It didn't make sense.

"Chit-chat."

"Your old self never engaged in idle chit-chat."

The Doctor shrugged. "New face, new man."

Jack walked over and sat next to him. He glanced at the item in the Doctor's hands - a micro-stabilizer - and stretched out, keeping careful distance. The Doctor wasn't stupid. Jack would still want answers, but he wasn't asking.

With a thrill, he watched as Jack pulled a very tarnished watch from his breast pocket and rolled it in his fingers without looking at it.

Even from a distance, the Doctor could hear the whispers of the Time Lord inside which the Doctor could never release.

"May I?" he asked, pointing at the watch.

"It doesn't work," said Jack, passing it over. The Doctor wondered if Jack remembered ever showing it to him before. "I've had it longer than I can remember."

When the warm metal touched his palm the mind buried within cried out. Trying to work quickly, wishing he could open it for even a second, he closed his eyes and focused. Young life. Academy. An old word came to him - Dromeian. His family, whoever they were, belonged to them. Radicals, but small. Rassilon had enjoyed playing with them. When he focused on regeneration there was a burst of light and pain, and a baby crying. A phrase, muddy and disused, pulled forward and he flinched.

The process took all of a second. He handed the watch back. Jack slipped it into his pocket, uninterested.

So he'd regenerated once, but he was very young to have any regenerations at all. Barely in his eighties. The thought made him sick. It was like killing a child. A respectable age for first regeneration was three hundred or so. The crying baby was baffling.

And the phrase that had appeared with the regeneration process...

The translation wasn't perfect, but from Gallifreyan to Earth English you could interpret the meaning.

_Bad Wolf._

Had the phenomena gone that far back? He racked his mind, and wasn't sure.

Jack was looking at him. The Doctor looked back, and remembered a moment in his bed a few months before. A promise he'd made himself.

He leaned in and kissed him.

Jack kissed back, his motions confused and slow, before he pulled away to look at his face. "What was that?"

"I owed you. For the Game Station." He paused. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Alright."

Jack was so easy going. Even in the matter of his abandonment, he adapted. Moved on.

He kissed him again. This time Jack moved back against him, more eager. The Doctor's senses were aflame. Jack's hands were on his shoulders, warm and heavy, massaging. The Doctor was enjoying this. He liked kissing a lot more in this form than he had before. And after all, he'd always had a sort of grudging attraction for Jack. Jack made little motions with his tongue that made him feel light headed, stroking his lips and tongue and teeth. This was good. Jack might be Wrong, but in this he was so, so right. Energy crackled with every little action, buzzing through onto his skin, electrifying with every motion of Jack's hands. And the _taste..._ oh how he wanted more. So much more. He knew instinctively he could draw the energy into himself, that it could make him stronger, and he pulled away, hearts pounding, face flushed. He wanted more.

"What?" asked Jack.

"I can't. I'm sorry." The Doctor stood up.

"Does this have something to do with my condition?"

"Yes."

Jack didn't reply, but hurt radiated from his silence.

The Doctor was going to turn around, to tell him that if he let it continue he might kill him, when Martha and Chan'Tho came back into the room with tea. Jack bounded up like nothing had been said or done, and the Doctor couldn't help but wonder why he'd kissed him quite like that. Or who he'd fallen in love with - Jack the human, or the possibility of Jack the Time Lord.

Martha and Chan'Tho were setting the tea and the Doctor stepped towards Jack.

"Do you remember, on the Game Station, when I told you to trust me?"

Jack nodded, a quick jerk of his head.

"I also said I had something important to discuss with you," he prompted.

Jack looked back at him, from the corner of his eyes.

"I will tell you when I can. I promise. It's hard, though."

Jack swallowed. "Because of what I am?"

"Yes, but not in the way you think," said the Doctor.

Jack snorted, humourless.

The Doctor didn't try to change his mind, and as he walked over to take a cup of tea, Jack's voice made him pause.

"I think it's going to take awhile before I get used to you," said Jack. "But if it means anything, I do trust you. One hundred percent."

It did.


	7. Chapter 7

The Silo was burning hot, but the elation in his hearts didn't let him feel it. The rocket which professor Yana had worked so hard upon was flying away, towards the signal, towards Utopia. The Doctor couldn't wait to follow, to see what was there. It was bloody brilliant. The Footprint system, a simple gravity pulse, was so subtle. He was amazed he hadn't noticed it before. He and Jack ran back and forth, adjusting settings, power levels, and signals.

After their little talk the Doctor was wondering if it might be time to tell Jack. Not to open it, but to let him see, to understand what was going on. Why the Doctor was running. It wasn't enough that Jack was a Fact. Maybe, once they were back in a more manageable era - several trillion years in the past, perhaps - he'd talk to him.

There was the sound of someone running around the rumble of the engines and the control room. He glanced up to see Martha. She looked terrified about something. Maybe it was the engines.

"Martha, the footprint, it's a gravity pulse!" he grinned, hoping his attitude would calm her. " It stems down, the rocket shoots up! A bit primitive but it will take the both of us to keep it stable!"

He glanced at Jack, who shot him a grin. There was a beep at the console and he ran over, entering a line of code.

Martha followed. "Doctor, it's the professor. He's got this watch," she took a breath, "he's got this fob watch. It's the same as yours. Same writing, same everything."

He felt his breath stutter as he flipped several switches. He couldn't look at her. "Don't be ridiculous." Had Yana found Jack's watch?

"I asked him. He said, he's had it his whole life."

The Doctor felt his mouth go dry. He tried to concentrate on the computer, but his fingers were fumbling.

"So he's got the same watch," said Jack, dismissive.

"Yeah, but it's not a watch. It's this chameleon thing."

He wished she'd shut up. Too much talk about the watch, and Jack might start to wonder about his. Might open it.

"Nonononono, it's this, it's this," he stuttered, trying to word it. Jack was too close. "This thing, this device that rewrites biology. Changes a Time Lord into a human."

Jack stopped, his eyes wide. The Doctor stared at him. There was something there, inside him. Something was whispering to him. He could see it. Like a memory of a smell or taste or sound that he couldn't quite reach. With a feeling or rising horror, he saw Jack's hand pat at his pocket, subconscious. The console beeped, and Jack turned to it, flipping switches. Saved by the beep. The Doctor turned back to the console.

"And it's the same watch."

"Can't be."

"That means he could be a Time Lord," said Jack. "You might not be the last one!"

_I know I'm not! Damnit, I know!_

There was another beep. The weight of thousands of human lives was in his hands. He couldn't lose focus. "Jack, keep it level!"

Jack turned back to the computer.

"But that's brilliant, isn't it?"

"Yes it is, 'course it is. But which one?" His thoughts flew over the Time Lords he knew, who would run from the Time War. Hide as a human. The Rani. The Master. He started feeling hysterical. "Brilliant, fantastic, yeah. But they died, the Time Lords. All of them, they died."

"Not if he was human," said Jack.

_I know!_

The Doctor couldn't bear it. There was another. Three, now. Three, and one of them was an entirely unknown entity. He could be anyone. He gritted his teeth. "What did he say, Martha?" he looked at her, and a small piece of him hated her for doing this to him. She opened her mouth, but she was too frightened to speak. _"WHAT DID HE SAY?"_

She swallowed. "He looked at the watch like he could hardly see it. Like that perception filter thing."

He took a deep breath. "What about now? Can he see it now?"

She didn't reply, but he could read the answer by the fear in her eyes. Yes. Yana could see it. And even as he tried to think of something to say, a psychic awareness started to build in his mind. Something empty, and hollow, after being a wanderer for too long. It was like a creature rising from sleep, opening its eyes, not fully aware yet.

Jack's voice broke into him. The consciousness grew. "If he escaped the Time War then the perfect place to hide is at the end of the universe."

Martha was standing in front of him, looking like she was trying to console an injured patient. The Doctor wanted to scream at her.

"Think of what the Face of Boe said," her voice was desperate. "His dying words."

The rocket roared. The refugees were leaving off into their uncertain future. The silo shook, and he swayed with it. The presence, a hollow thing compared to what it once was when Gallifrey was strong and alive, felt huge within his mind. And he could feel the barest, familiar prickling of madness.

The Doctor looked at the screen which connected to Yana's laboratory. On the fuzzy screen, four letters were written in bold.

Yana.

You Are Not Alone.

The message from The Face of Boe had not been about Jack at all.


	8. Chapter 8

Master.

Oh Master. Oh Koshchei.

Occasionally, since he'd begun to run from Jack, he'd woken terrified in the night with the thought that Jack could be the Master, that his memories were locked deep enough that the simple reading could miss it. He'd been wrong. The second Yana's fob watch had opened the Doctor had felt the crackle of another Time Lord in his mind. The psychic void where his people had once filled had an echo, and his entire nervous system felt like it had jumped. Someone, after too many years, was there, and his hearts had threatened to leap into his throat. When they'd gotten closer to the lab he registered a scent he recognized, didn't want to recognize, had never wanted smell again.

The scent of the academy, of the luscious grounds, of battles fought through space and time. Of Koschei.

His laughing, psychotic voice drifted from the TARDIS. Jack and Martha were screaming as they tried to hold the futurekind back, and the Doctor's hearts wanted to break as the time rotor groaned. The TARDIS began to dematerialize under the command of a new master, and wasn't that ironic?

At least Jack wasn't him. Now he really and truly wasn't alone. Perhaps Jack was Romana? Or the Rani? He felt like laughing wildly at the thought, and knew it wasn't true.

Although it was sort of funny, in a sick kind of way, that the last remaining members of his species were all male. Funnier, in that one was an ex-lover, and the other had the potential to _be_ his lover. After all, if he hadn't been so tempted to draw all of the energy he could have a relationship with the Captain.

Who else would crawl through the cracks in the woodwork to find him, bringing back his kind in bits and pieces?

As the TARDIS dematerialized, and the Doctor locked it into its last trip with the sonic, he wondered if life would ever be simple. He answered the question as he rushed to Jack and Martha's aide.

Not bloody likely.


	9. Chapter 9

Jack's watch was growing dangerous. With the mentions of the Master's arch device, and Martha telling Jack about their issues with the Family of Blood, he'd begun twisting it in his fingers more and more, his subconscious telling him that something was amiss. The Doctor was merely thankful that Martha hadn't noticed it yet. He couldn't deal with that on top of everything else.

Without the TARDIS, the Doctor couldn't risk Jack waking up. With her, it was the only chance the energy could be siphoned out safely. Without her, Jack could destroy the planet far worse than the Master, AKA Harold Saxon, was threatening to do.

The warehouse ceiling disappeared above him in a blur of darkness. The fire they'd light in the garbage can set flickering orange light to dance with the shadows in their small haven. Night time had fallen outside. The Doctor was lying near a pillar, his head propped up by his coat, mind racing a mile a minute as he tried to formulate some kind of plan to stop the Master.

Jack was sleeping nearby on a crate. The Doctor counted his slow breaths, wondering if he was asleep enough to try picking his pocket. He started to sit up when Jack shifted. He leaned back as Jack sat up. He thanked the stars that he was in the gloom, because Jack turned and looked down at him a moment, his eyes glittering in the firelight. The next second he'd rubbed the sleep from his eyes and started off into the shadows.

When Jack disappeared into the dark the Doctor made his move and went to Jack's makeshift bead. He was using his coat as a blanket. The Doctor began to rifle through his pockets.

Martha was sleeping, and he kept glancing at her to make sure she didn't wake up. Jack wouldn't be gone long, so his hearts were racing. He found the fob watch and picked it up, and ran his fingers over it. The Time Lord within sent pleading thoughts for a moment, before growing silent as it read his intentions. Hand shaking, he hung the jacket back over Jack's crate, and walked to the side of the warehouse. He climbed up on another abandoned crate and leaned over and slipped the watch behind a broken piece of drywall onto a metal stud.

He stepped back and admired it. Hidden away. With the perception filter, Jack wouldn't really notice it went missing, and if the Master found them Jack would be as safe as he could be. When the issue with the Master was resolved he could retrieve the watch and decide what to do then.

He heard Jack's approach and stepped away from the wall, put his hands in his pockets and lied easily when Jack asked why he wasn't sleeping.

Jack paused by his crate, glancing at him, and then at Martha. The Doctor watched him over the flickering firelight.

"Join me?" Jack's voice was soft. Humans, always seeking comfort in the flesh when they couldn't find it in the soul. The Doctor couldn't deny he would like something physical, but he knew if it went beyond that kiss he might suck the life out of the captain.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Jack didn't reply.

When Jack resumed lying on the crate the Doctor stayed awake in the dark.

Twenty-four hours later everything had gone to hell, but at least Jack's Time Lord consciousness was safely tucked away where the Master couldn't use it. It was a bitter consolation, and he knew Jack would never forgive him his motives. His rheumatic body didn't want to move. Every twist was painful. Martha was gone, walking the earth, and here he was, eating out of a dog bowl and sleeping in a shabby little tent. And below decks, the Master was delighting in Jack.

He wondered if he'd ever forgive himself.


	10. Chapter 10

The days in the Valiant dragged on. Occasionally the Doctor was taken to view Jack. He'd look on, sitting curled and wasted in his wheelchair while the Master took his time with the captain. Sometimes a Toclafane would help, sometimes one of the guards. Once or twice the Master had even taken Lucy Saxon to Jack, and made her take a knife and work on Jack's bare back, a dead, dull look in her eyes as the blood ran in rivulets down his skin. He had to try to close himself off when he was down there, to focus on the Archangel Network, integrating himself by fractions while the Master took his time destroying the human race. But it was so hard, hearing Jack whimper and gasp, sending him looks that varied between desperation, determination and, so very rarely the Doctor wasn't even sure if he was imagining it, accusation.

"Look at him," the Master's voice hissed in his ear. "Look. See how pathetic he is. The Freak of Nature."

He moved away from the Doctor to kick Jack, who was lying on the ground, his wrists bound to chains hooked into the floor. His only sounds were low, long rasps as his chest heaved. Blood was pooling on the ground. When the Master's foot connected with his chest Jack didn't so much as grunt. The Doctor's hands curled into fists with the wet thud each kick made as it connected, watching Jack's body twist, his breath like water over gravel.

One of his ribs snapped and Jack cried out, pathetic and low. The Master laughed. "Silly little humans. So fragile."

He knelt, and the Doctor tried to tune out the words.

"Look, Freak. I've seen your mind. How in love you are with him. But you know what you are? An abomination. It hurts him to _look_ at you. He can't stand the sight or the stink of you. And yet you cling," he tittered.

_It's not true._

The Master yanked his head up by his hair, matted through with dirt and blood. "You're not fit to lick the Doctor's shoes."

Jack's eyes, not yet broken but so full of pain, met his, and the Doctor shook his head almost imperceptibly. He wished it was enough.

The Master let go, and Jack hit the metal floor with a wet splat. He kicked him again, on the broken rib, and Jack groaned in pain. The sound bubbled through lips frothy with blood.

The Master stood back. "It's time for my lunch. I think I'll have something nice and hot. Like soup. Korta?"

"Yes?" The voice of a Toclafane, so eager to please. It whirred into the space and bobbed next to him, its knives spinning slowly.

"Make him scream. I'd like to hear him all the way up in my chambers."

The Master seized the back of the Doctor's wheelchair and shoved him along carelessly. The doors to Jack's prison clanged shut, but not before he heard Jack cry out in agony behind him.

"I won't intrude in your head, Thete," said the Master, softly. "But if I know you, something's brewing up there."

The Doctor didn't reply. Whatever had been between them so many years ago was lost. He could remember, dimly, hushed nights in the Academy. Things had been so innocent then.

"What makes him so special to you?" asked the Master.

The Doctor didn't reply. He didn't often speak, didn't see the point, when the wrong word could send the Master's wrath down on the nearest human, since he wouldn't take hand to him.

"I can tell he is. Sometimes I read your dreams, when you sleep. And he's so important to you. More important than the rest of this filthy world, although I haven't discovered why yet. One day I'll have every scrap of this human wasteland destroyed before moving on to more worthy planets, destroy every piece of humanity."

The Doctor closed his eyes against the imagery.

"But there will always be one piece left, of course. Your little Freak. I'll find out what it is with him soon enough," he chuckled, low in his ear. "And don't worry, when all the humans are dead or converted into Toclafane, I'll let you keep the Freak for a little pet. A momento."

The Doctor swallowed back a surge of bile that sent him into a coughing fit. His withered hands clutched the handles, doubling over, eyes shut against the pain.

"I still don't know how you could kiss the Thing," said the Master. "It must have burned like acid. I could always turn you back to yourself," he invited. His fingers were whisper soft against his temple, feeding an image of their time at the academy together. "I could kiss you."

The Doctor felt rage pulse beneath his withered skin. "I won't submit to you," he said, his voice ancient and cold.

The Master laughed, hysterical, and pushed him hard. The Doctor flew forward until his wheelchair snagged a step, and he was flung onto the hard metal grating. His limbs yelled at him as the mezzanine slammed into him.

"Submit? _Submit?"_ His voice was frenzied as he rushed over. The Doctor felt himself yanked back by his collar, and he gagged. "Oh, but Thete, I know you well enough that you'll _submit_ long before you'll stop me. After all, we're the last of our kind. The Last Time Lords, and Time is ours." He giggled. "You'll be mine, no matter how long I have to wait."

_Not the last,_ thought the Doctor, listening to Jack's muffled screams.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I know that the guards were real people in the show, but I'm making it slightly AU to suit my purposes...

`~+0+~`

The Doctor was permitted 'visiting hours' some time after the six month period. He didn't have many people to visit. Just Jack. So once a week he was wheeled into a room by one of the Master's servants - a slab. All of the servants, with the exception of the Jones family, were slabs. The Master had complained that humans needed too much feeding and too many gave the Valiant a smell, so he'd made himself a small army of the leather soldiers, complete with realistic faces.

Jack was lead in by another guard. He was shoved down into a plastic chair across from the Doctor's wheelchair. Jack slumped, exhausted, his head lolling. The chair couldn't be very hard, but the Doctor had seen that Jack was rarely allowed to sit, and heard Jack's moan of satisfaction.

The doors slid shut with and the locks snapped to in the walls. They were alone now, with the exception of the slowly blinking CCTV camera in the corner pointed directly at them. With a, effort that sent his shoulders and arms burning, the Doctor reached down and grasped the wheels of his chair and pushed. Slowly the chair squeaked forward, until he was close enough to Jack that their knees were touching.

Jack's head twitched, his fingers flexed. The Doctor reached out and grasped his hand. Jack looked up. His blue eyes were dead. The immortals fingers squeezed his. His skin felt young and vital against his soft, withered flesh. They'd been getting the visiting hours for some time, but they never spoke. They'd spoken the first time, but what they said brought the rage of the Master down upon Jack, and, unwilling to cause another violent episode like had been brought on before, the Doctor refused to speak to Jack. But it didn't mean he had other means of communication.

He'd had six months to integrate himself into the psychic network which encompassed the earth, linking every living creature below. He was perhaps seventy percent meshed with the network. The final thirty percent required finesse, all of his concentration. But those visiting days he relaxed for the few hours he was given. He felt like he was stealing snatches of comfort and time from what was soon to come, from the despicable act he was going to be committing.

The Doctor closed his eyes. He felt the psychic link of the Archangel Network humming in the back of his mind like an entity, whispering.

_Are you alright, Jack?_ he sent. With his high integration, he no longer needed contact with the person's temples to send a message. A hand would do, and the Master never suspected it.

Jack squeezed his hand. After the first conversation the Doctor spoke to Jack silently, sending him soft psychic messages, warnings. Jack responded with different motions with his hand on the Doctor's. The Master didn't like their contact, but he tolerated it. He was still too obsessed with the puzzle Jack posed, and the Doctor's focus on him to worry about them holding hands.

_I'm sorry._

Jack dug in his nail slightly, and swiped his thumb across the back of the Doctor's hand. The thumb swipe was for 'no,' and the slight pain to enforce it. He hated the Doctor's constant apologies. The Doctor's lips twitched, and he smothered a smile.

_If there was a way to keep you from suffering, I would do it._

Jack didn't respond.

_I'm going to ask you to do something that will help save everyone. I'm just afraid it's a rather lot to ask for._

Jack squeezed his hand in a silent yes.

_Typical. You don't even know what it is and you agree._

Two squeezes.

_Jack, I'm afraid what I'm asking may take a lot from you. Your immortality, for one._

Jack didn't move, but the Doctor could hear his breathing change.

_I'm sorry. It will mean sacrifice. And change. You'll live. I promise you'll live. It won't kill you. But it will be dangerous._

Another two squeezes, the last of them lingering.

_You need to trust me. When the time comes, something will come to you. Not a weapon, I am not asking you to kill. But it will be like a weapon in that it will help to end the Master's cruelty. And you're going to have to use it._

Jack responded with a gentle squeeze.

_I wish I could tell you more, get you truly prepared. But the Master..._

Jack squeezed his fingers hard now, and he stroked his hand with his thumb, but it wasn't in a no. It was in comfort. Jack was dying at least once a day, tortured and maimed, paraded about, psychically intruded upon. Jack at least had enough training that he kept their conversations from the Master. Yet he tried to comfort the Doctor, even when he should hate him. Hate his very blood.

Jack, with what must have been a Herculean effort, sent back an emotion of comfort that made the Doctor's eyes, which were so often cold and shut off, prickle with tears. He rasped in a breath, squeezing with all the strength his fragile fingers could muster.

"Alright, alright," said the laughing voice of the Master over the speakers, "that's plenty of time for one day."

The door whooshed open. The Master danced over the threshold, followed by two slabs. One of them yanked Jack away from the Doctor. Jack hit the ground with a grunt. The slab which threw him down pulled him to his feet by his hair. Jack yelled now, struggling up with the pulling hand.

The Master's voice was sharp. "Shut your trap, Freak, or I'll slice your vocal chords again. Or maybe cut your tongue out."

Jack snapped his mouth shut. His teeth clicked loud enough that the Doctor, who was being rolled away by the second slab, could hear it.

"Get him ready in his quarters. I've got a little knife from Torchwood he might recognize, and I want to use it on him." The master tittered. "In fact, I've already used it on a friend of his. The one with the pretty blue eyes and cock-sucking mouth."

Jack screamed in rage. There was a blast from the laser, and he heard Jack's heavy body hit the ground.

The Master laughed with glee.

The Doctor's head bowed, wishing that Martha would return soon.

+o+o+

A/N: Remember, if you've been enjoying the story, please review!


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Augh! Long chapter :P It took me awhile, but I -think- I have it the way I want it now. The story is nearly done, and I just want to say thanks to everyone who faved, story alerted, and reviewed it. Lots of kisses xxxx! There's still three more chapters/drabbles to go, but they won't take long to finish and post.

And remember, if you like it, review! They make me go faster ;) :D

`~+0+~`

When the Master bounced in from his visit to Earth's surface, he was looking pleased. Too pleased. The Doctor was slumped in his cage, a repulsive gremlin. His two, small, withered hearts beat weak and slow. The Master, fiddling with his laser, danced over to him and stopped before the cage, his eyes delighted and twinkling.

"Rejoice, Doctor. It all ends today."

The Doctor frowned. He rose up and hobbled to the edge of the cage, wrapping his tiny fingers around the bars, deigning to speak. By now he was fully integrated, his mind aflame from the psychic feelings from every remaining piece of humanity, laden with their despair.

"I've found her, Doctor. She's coming now. Martha Jones, whom you sent from this place to be my assassin. She was a tricky one to find because of your perception filters, just so you know. A clever bit of engineering, but it failed in the end. She's a bleeding heart," he stroked the cage, and tapped the laser screwdriver against the bars, punctuating each word. "Just. Like. You."

The Doctor felt his hearts beat faster, sending shoots of pain through him. If it wasn't for the Master's manipulation device, he would have regenerated by now. He couldn't die. Every moment was like agony, demanding he give in, let go, and he couldn't. He was suspended.

The Master smiled. He waved his hand at the room behind him. "But look at this. A front row seat for you to watch me kill her, and finally set the universe on fire. The human race ends today, Doctor. And then the rest of this galaxy, and the next and the next from now until the end of time."

The Doctor sighed. "Master," he said, "if you weren't so blind, so desperate to become a god, you could be so great."

The Master sneered. "Oh, yes. I can see that now. You forsake everything but your TARDIS, owning nothing, having nothing, demanding nothing, being _nothing,_ in your pilgrimage across time and space. Yes, I can see how much better off you are, in your canary cage, a disgusting goblin, weak and helpless. How much better it is. How enlightened I am!"

He chuckled, fingering the laser screwdriver. "Don't worry. When it's done and every scrap of humanity is purged, I'll de-age you. And then I will really set to work on you and the Freak. You'll be my little pets. The Last Human, and you. Maybe I'll make you into my consort." His low laugh turned into a howl as he walked away. He slapped a button on the control deck, and the computer panels lit up.

The door buzzed, and Lucy Saxon walked into the room, resplendent in crimson silk. Her eyes were dead, face smooth and blank. She didn't so much as glance at the Doctor as she paused at the foot of the stairs. When she spoke her voice was equally so. "We're ready. Shall I send one of the slabs to bring in the Jones family and another to bring the Freak?"

The Master spun, laughing. He advanced on her, and the Doctor saw the subtle shift of her weight for what it was - a recoil of fear. But she let herself be grabbed, twirled, and kissed all the same. "Oh yes, my charming wife, my precious companion. Soon, so very soon, a blood red dawn will consume the earth and all the stars beyond!"

`~+0+~`

"Citizens of earth," cried the Master into the computer which connected him to every communications device across the world, "rejoice and observe!"

From his cage, he watched Martha marched in by a slab. The Doctor was delighted, in a small part of his mind, that the Master didn't trust humans. Devoid of all thought except following their latest order, they would help rather than hinder. His hearts were beating hard and fast as she approached the Master. Jack and the Jones family stood nearby, looking apprehensive. The Doctor could feel it, feel the pain, the fear.

"Your teleport device," said the Master, stroking his laser, smiling like a cat with a canary. "In case you think I've forgotten."

Martha pulled out the vortex manipulator and threw it to him. The Master caught it easily and ran his fingers over the leather, beaming down at her. The Doctor knew what Martha would have hidden away.

"And now," he said, his voice dropping with a cutting edge of cruelty, _"kneel."_

Without prompt from the guards, she lowered herself down to the deck, staring defiantly at him.

"Down below, the fleet is ready to launch," said the Master, raising his arms. "Two hundred thousand ships set to burn across the universe."

The guard moved away, and she glanced at the Doctor. He nodded once. The master had turned, was speaking into the comlink, staring at the world below, readying himself for the launch. The clock started ticking. Already the Doctor could feel the energy massing for that crucial moment.

She turned to stare at Jack the moment the Master looked away, and Jack smiled back, covered in filth and grime. A smile devoid of hope. She pulled something from her pocket and tossed it to him.

Jack's hand snapped out reflexively and caught it. The slab reacted to the movement and brought the butt of his gun down hard on the back of Jack's head. The immortal crumpled to the deck, groaning.

"Is the Freak plotting something?" chuckled the Master, staring at Jack, who was curled over what was in his hand.

"I twitched and your leather baby gave me a smack," said Jack, ever sarcastic. "Kinky, but painful."

The Master snorted, devoid of humour. "If that's how you feel, when this is over my 'leather babies' and I will have a lot of fun with you later."

"I look forward to it," said Jack, sitting up, resting on his knees. The Master looked away. Another victory point for the Doctor - the Master could not bear to look at Jack, even now, for more than a few seconds.

Jack opened his hand and looked at what he held cradled in the palm of his hand, looking bewildered.

_Jack, you know what that is. Trust me._

Jack's head snapped up. His blue eyes caught the Doctor's, his hand clenched around the watch. With the Archangel Network, and Jack's heightened psychic awareness, he could communicate even across the room now.

_Look at it, Jack._

Jack looked down, opening his hand. He stared at the fob watch truly for the first time, and through their link he could feel his anxiety.

_You have the Vortex pulsing through you. You can stop this by opening it. By becoming more powerful than the Master can imagine._

Martha was taunting the Master, leading him in. Mocking him for the gun. The Doctor could feel the ripple of emotions from the Master. Like all people who craved power, the Master was also afraid to lose it, and he could feel that fear from him on the edge of his thoughts as he approached Martha, trying to figure out what it was she was so amused by.

Jack's emotions were in his mind, too. Terror. Wonder. Apprehension... and something else, something quieter. Understanding. An answer he hadn't known he was seeking. Something had clicked in his mind. Something was finally making sense.

_It's the secret I've been keeping, Jack. The secret I've been holding all these years. The reason I never woke you was because of the Bad Wolf, and how powerful you'd be. I was afraid. I was wrong. I know you might not forgive me for forcing this on you now, and I understand if you hate me. But I need your help._

Jack touched the sides of the watch. The Doctor could feel its psychic pulses. Strengthened by it, he closed his eyes and Jack's mind reached back towards him.

_I forgive you. But I'm afraid._

The Doctor felt his breath catch, and he coughed, his lungs too weak. _I will help you. _

_You told me once that a Time Lord would be like a wrathful God if they held the power of the vortex. I don't want to be like him._

_I will help you. I promise._

"There's a secret the Doctor's kept for a long time. A painful secret," said Martha, mocking.

"And that is?" The Master had approached her. His laser screwdriver touched the bottom of her chin, finger on the trigger.

_"You two aren't the last. _There's another. And when he awakens, he'll be more powerful than you can imagine."

"What are you babbling about, girl?" said the Master, sneering. "We are the Last. The blood of the Time Lords lives on only in us. If there were another I would feel it."

The countdown continued, the energy was massing. Even before the clock reached one people were thinking his name, and each thought was like a pinprick of light through a black painted wall, shining, growing louder. Jack was now holding the watch in both hands, contemplating it, his entire body tense.

_Will I still be me?_

_Yes._

"There's another Time Lord," she said. "One more powerful than you can imagine."

_Jack, I never got the chance to tell you,_ sent the Doctor. He closed his eyes, and sent his feelings for him. Even at the end of the world, he couldn't send the word love, but he could send what he felt behind it. Jack responded, he could hear his gasps across the room. He looked over, and there were tears in his eyes.

_Good-bye,_ Jack sent.

"My instructions, Master," said Martha, "were to spread the word. One of the Doctor, and to retrieve a far better weapon than a silly gun."

"What do you mean," said the Master, his voice barely over a whisper.

"I walked the earth below, and found a watch." Martha smiled. "You lose."

The Doctor watched Jack click the watch open. A voice cried out in his mind, Jack's voice. The Master reeled in shock, grasping his head, stumbling from the sheer weight of it. There was another Time Lord in their minds, linked, and powerful beyond belief. The Doctor could feel more than one power growing now as the clock ticked down to zero, to the end of the world. But this one was so different. While the power of humanity was gentle, hopeful, this one was hot. It was burning, burning, _burning_. The Paradox Machine, and the ghost of the TARDIS, cried out simultaneously. _Screamed._

"This is impossible!" The Master was bowed under the psychic weight of that voice. Pure will kept the Doctor from crumpling into a tiny ball in the bottom of his cage beneath it.

"No, NO NO!" the Master roared as Martha turned towards her family, running for their open arms. "You insolent _bitch!" _Like a man who had the world slipping from his cupped fingers like water, he lashed out. The yellow beam struck Martha between the shoulder blades with the cracking sound of rushing death. The Doctor cried out in his weak voice as Martha arched gracefully in her death and hit the ground. Her mother was screaming as she collapsed over Martha's prone form.

The psychic screaming fell in pitch, and the Doctor and the Master looked over at Jack.

Jack's face was lit by the golden light, the information pounding into his mind, his body changing as he stared into the depths of the fob in his hands. Then a ringing sort of silence fell in the Doctor's mind as the device went dead and fell from Jack's fingers.

The newly awoken Time Lord rose to his feet. When he opened his eyes they were burning with gold fire. His skin was lit with the Bad Wolf's radiance. Jack flexed his arms, and time shuddered.

The Master raised his laser again, this time to Jack. The yellow beam lanced towards the captain, but the Bad Wolf raised one hand and absorbed it. He flicked his fingers in a careless gesture and the screwdriver disintegrated into its base components in the Master's hand. The guard moved against Jack, raising its gun to hit him, but with a wave all of the slabs in the room dissolved into dust. Time seemed to hold its breath as Jack stepped forward.

The Bad Wolf paused next to Martha's family. The three of them, holding onto the corpse of their beloved, cowered. Something like grief touched the Bad Wolf's features. The Doctor could hear Rose's voice in the back of his mind.

_"I bring life."_

With a wave of his hand the vortex heaved and Martha gasped to life. The Doctor winced as time rippled around her. A new time line arched from her, bright, but singular. This time the Bad Wolf measured right, using only enough energy to repair the damaged tissues and restart her heart. And in that second the Doctor could see her life, which would be very long and full, fly into time.

"The Freak is a _Time Lord?"_ said the Master, backing up, pushing himself over the steps as he climbed towards the console, out of options. Out of chances. "How is that _possible?"_

The Bad Wolf stopped before the steps. Its voice was the double timbre Rose's had had, as cold as the vacuum of space.

**"Rassilon was afraid, like you, of any who threatened his precious order. He sent three Time Lords into the fifty-first century to watch the Time Agency. This body was one of them. He forced their regenerations, and using the souls of three separate TARDIS's he regressed them into infancy and planted them with subconscious instructions so that one day they would join the Time Agency and spy for him, as Sleeper Agents. When the Time War occurred they were safe in their human bodies and forgotten by the council. The other two perished in their human forms, but this one remained. And when he was to die, I saved him, to await the time when the Doctor chose to reveal his mind to him."**

"No, no, no!" the Master cried, unable to look up at the god he'd failed to become. The Doctor felt nothing but pity for him, staring at his one-time friend kneeling on the floor, cowed beneath the Bad Wolf's might.

**"You have to answer for the things you have done, Koschei. The lives you have ended. What you have done to **_**me.**_** I am a TARDIS, the last TARDIS. I am made to travel, to obey the laws of time, which were never made to be broken, and you have distorted them and abused them. You are the Master of nothing, something small, weak, something made to be forgotten."**

"The Time Vortex should kill you."

**"This body is a Time Lord, and a vessel that has been honed to bear this energy by one such as me. He was designed for this purpose. The world must be rewritten and grow as it was meant to be."**

The Master was writhing his hands. "But you won't be able to control it! Even a Time Lord can't do that!"

**"But with faith, and hope, I can." **The Bad Wolf turned. Behind the burning gold its eyes were frightened.** "Doctor."**

The Doctor leaned against the bars of the cage, forcing his voice to carry. "I'm sorry, Master. I'm so sorry. But you cowed the human race, you beat them down until there was nothing left but their minds. You never realized that their minds were the strongest, most powerful weapons you could give them, did you? With the Archangel Network spanning this poor planet, they were linked. And for the purpose, for him," he waved his hand at Jack, "they were told a word. Just one."

The Master swallowed. "What word?"

_"Doctor."_

The clock had hit the final number. Humanity cried out his name, and the Doctor felt the energy of humanity pulsing through him, like the strong surge of a single heartbeat. He looked at his hands, saw the silver and purple light glow around his wizened flesh.

Martha's voice rang out reverently. "Doctor!" Her eyes were closed, her hands clasped around her mother's and father's. The rest of her family closed their eyes, and their lips moved, and the Doctor could feel them joining the tide of energy. Even Lucy Saxon, standing aside, her cold pale hands clasping the railing of the console platform, closed her eyes, tilted her head, and leant what will she had left to him.

It was time to act. The energy given to him from the people below filled the Doctor, roaring like a crashing tempest. The cage disintegrated. The Doctor rose up into the air, knowing below that the people of the earth were crying out his name, he could feel them focusing on him, binding their will to his. His body regressed, and became young and whole again. His hearts pounded with fresh blood, his muscles flexed. He stepped down next to Jack. Purple and silver light mixed with gold.

_"NO!"_ the Master was screaming, cowering. The Doctor could feel him, spirit broken. Crushed again, never to win. "Not you, too! This isn't fair! Stop it! Stop it now!"

"Tell me the human race is degenerate now," he said as he stood next to Jack, his voice reverberating in the air, "when they can do this."

"You can't do this! _You can't!"_

The Doctor sighed. He looked to the immortal, the Bad Wolf.

"Jack," he said.

_"Help me,"_ was the reply, not the Bad Wolf, not the human, but someone new and afraid. The one Jack had become, hidden behind the rush of power. The Doctor took his hand, which burned hot against his own.

"I will guide you," said the Doctor.

The Bad Wolf nodded and raised his free arm. Time pulsed. The Doctor closed his eyes, lending his strength. The paradox was being rewritten. Millions of toclafane were sent back to where they belonged, the damage done to the earth was beginning to reverse, swirling in a maelstrom and at the centre of it all was the Bad Wolf, the fixed point.

The Doctor could feel the TARDIS reborn into what she was meant to be as the paradox machine was destroyed and she was restored. Lives, millions of lives, thundered back into the world, their bright lines washed through him like a cascade, weaving back into the elaborate tapestry that was their life. The burning energy rose as the year of death that the Master had reaped was rewritten.

There was a long, grinding sound. The TARDIS. The time rotor was turning over, the TARDIS was materializing in the room behind the Bad Wolf. When she reappeared, her doors swung open revealing a golden glow from within her heart.

Jack lowered his arm, curling his hand into a fist. Everything seemed to suck towards him as he tried to hold back his power, but he was losing the battle by inches. The Doctor could feel the urge within Jack to let the power surge continue, to fly, to test his muscles.

"Enough now, Jack," said the Doctor.

The Bad Wolf nodded. **"Please. Even with this preparation, the energy is too much. I cannot hold onto this body. Let him sleep, so I can go back to where I belong."**

"Will Jack lose the vortex energy keeping him alive?"

**"No. He must relinquish that himself. Let him sleep."**

The Doctor nodded. He touched the Bad Wolf's forehead, and its golden eyes closed. His head tilted back, leaning into his palm, seeking comfort, a soothing, cool touch against a raging fever. Jack's body arched and he cried out, as golden tendrils of light bled from him. The gold light receded from him and, in a cascade of glittering particles, disappeared into the TARDIS doors. Jack let out a last breath before he fell.

"Jack!" Martha cried, trying to struggle from the arms of her parents. "Let me go to him!"

"He's _dangerous!"_ said Francine.

"He saved my life!" she broke their grip and ran to his filthy, prone body, tilting his head up, trying to make him comfortable. When she touched his skin, a dull purple glow appeared, the Doctor's power. "Is he alive?" she asked.

"He sleeps," said the Doctor.

She knelt over him and put her ear over his chest. "A double heartbeat," she said in wonder.

He turned to look at the Master, who looked back, cowed, broken.

"All this was born of her good work," he said, waving his hand at Martha. "And the human race. Connected to the Archangel Network, integrated into its matrices, I can feel humanity. And with their focus, and their hope, I was able to help him," he pointed to Jack, "and so I move on to stop your reign of madness."

"You can't do this," said the Master, weak, holding his head. "It's not fair."

"And now you know what comes next." The Doctor stepped forward, the energy sweeping through him, bearing down on the Master, who backed into the corner, begging, pleading. "And you will listen, because you know what I'm going to say."

He released the pent up energy, leaving only enough to control Jack, to leave him in a protective sleep.

_"No!"_

The Doctor leaned down and embraced him.

"I forgive you," he whispered.

The Master cried out, curling in on himself.

"The year is reborn, the paradox is broken," said the Doctor, standing. "We'll remember because we were at its heart, but it is done."

"So what do we do now?" asked Martha, standing. She left Jack's side and approached, cautious.

The Doctor took a deep breath. The Master, and now Jack, had joined him. The remaining Time Lords. What could he do? He'd fantasized about curing the Master, about them travelling once more through space and time, glorious, living, _happy._ But as the Master knelt on the ground he knew that it wouldn't happen. He had no idea where to go next. If Jack relinquished his power the three of them would return to the TARDIS, but the Master would be trapped, made submissive, a prisoner. A life he would never want to lead.

"We should kill him," said the voice of Clive Jones, booming out like a death knell.

"Yes," said Tish, stepping up. "Execute him."

"No, that's not the solution," said the Doctor, looking up at the humans, feeling something sick burn in his stomach. He loved humans, but he was always astonished at how blood-thirsty they could be.

"Oh," said a soft voice, accompanied by the click of a slide on a semi-automatic pistol being cocked. "I think so."

The Doctor looked over to see Martha's mother, pointing a gun at the Master, who pressed himself against the wood, staring at death down the merciless black barrel. The Doctor raised his hand, walking forward, trying not to alarm her.

"Because all those things..." she said, tears running down her face, "they still happened. Don't move, Doctor."

The Doctor froze.

"Don't force me to kill you too. This has to happen."

"No, it doesn't. Francine, you're better than him," said the Doctor.

_"Go on,_" hissed the Master, rising to his feet. _"Do it."_

Francine's hands shook, the barrel swayed.

Martha came up behind her and wrapped her arms around her body. Francine's face broke and she dropped the gun, turning into her daughters embrace. She let out a muffled sob. The Doctor looked back down to where the Master stood.

"You still haven't answered the question," said the Master, his dark brown eyes narrowed, angry. "What happens to me?"

"You're my responsibility now. You'll come with me, in the TARDIS."

"You mean you'll keep me?" said the Master in a peculiar tone.

The Doctor nodded. "It's the only safe place for you now. We're the last of the Time Lords. You, me, and Jack. I've wandered long enough. Now we have to stay together."

A shot rang out. The Doctor saw the small circle of blood splatter the wall behind him. The Master's arms spread, almost like a priest blessing his people, as he hit the wood panel, a look of shock on his face. He was looking down, at his chest, and the blossom of blood, blooming from a hole in his chest, soaking through his clothes.

"Put it down!" yelled Martha. The Doctor glanced back in time to see Martha yank the gun from Lucy Saxon's hands, her eyes wide, holding nothing, blank and devoid of emotion. A tear rolled down her cheek.

The Doctor ran forward, caught the Master as he slid to the ground, and drew him into his arms.

"Always the women," said the Master.

"I didn't see her," he said, waiting for the golden glow of regeneration to start.

"Dying in your arms. Happy now?" asked the Master. A spot of blood had appeared in the corner of his mouth.

The Doctor blinked, frowning. "You're not dying, don't be stupid. It's only a bullet. Just regenerate."

The Master smiled, weak, mocking. "No."

"It's only a bullet, come on. Regenerate."

"I guess you don't know me so well. I refuse."

The Doctor felt his hearts start to break, hoping this was some sort of stupid, sick joke the Master wanted to play one last time. "Just regenerate. _Please, PLEASE!_ Just regenerate!"

The Master's smile widened. Blood was soaking the Doctor's hands, dripping on the floor, staining him. Staining everything.

"And spend the rest of my life imprisoned with you and the abomination?"

The Doctor felt hot tears in his eyes, burning. "You've got to. We're the last, we three. We're the last. There's only the three of us left, the only thing left of Gallifrey. There's no one else. We have to hold on to each other."

The Master chuckled. Through the last vestiges of his integration with the Archangel Network, the Doctor felt something. Jealousy, love, and anger, flitting through their connection. With a heavy, slow movement the Master raised his hand, and his fingers, cool even by Time Lord standards, touched the Doctor's temple.

There was a wash of scents and flickers of memories. Flickers of time, from quiet nights spent curled together in an Academy dorm, to the hard scent of ionic residue from laser blasts and space battles fought over and over again through time. The Master's voice appeared in his mind, full of pain. _You will hold onto the abomination and trap me. I'll be forgotten in the face of him. Why would I stay to play second fiddle? You love him, and there is nothing for me in this Universe._

_It won't be like that!_

_Oh yes, it will. And you will be denied._

"REGENERATE!" the Doctor roared.

"How about that," said the Master. "I win." He swallowed, licking away the spot of blood. His mouth was red. "Will it stop, Doctor? The drumming? Will it stop?" Images flooded through the Doctor's mind, the child who would become Koschei and later yet The Master staring into the Untempered Schism, and fire _burning_ in his mind along with the first beats of the drums that would haunt him for his entire life.

The Doctor's hearts were breaking. The Master, Koschei, his once-beloved, slumped in his arms. His eyes rolled, and closed for the last time. The pounding of his hearts faded to nothing. His mind burned with the final images, and he pulled Koschei to his chest, curling over him, burying his face into the Master's shoulder. He felt a sound of agony rip from his throat before the sobbing started.

Martha came up to him. "Come away, Doctor," she said. Her hand was soft on his shoulder when hardness would be more fitting of the pain in his chest. He felt like he'd be ripped in two.

"I just wanted everyone to live!" he was screaming, he couldn't stop it. "I just wanted everyone to live! _I just... I just..."_


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: I tried to do my research concerning the Academy and the various Gallifreyan Chapters. I'm not overly familiar with "Old Who" canon, so I did my best here (and if anyone who reads this is an old school Whovian, please don't kill me if I messed it up really bad). Hope you guys like :)

`~+0+~`

The TARDIS seemed so quiet and desolate now. Not like when he'd said good-bye to Donna last Christmas, not like when Rose had been taken from him. Not even like when he was travelling for so, so long alone after the Time War, angry and lashing out. Something had changed.

He wandered about the halls and console room, touching the controls, the walls, his mind blank. Grief was sealed away, but only just, as memories, jumbled and disjointed, tumbled through his mind. Memories of the academy, of Koschei and the Deca, and memories of Jack. Memories he should have more of, if he was honest with himself. He knew it was stupid to think that way, but he thought that if maybe he'd just woken Jack up sooner, everything could have turned out different. Better.

After all, if he'd been honest with Jack, had kept Jack with him in the first place, Jack would never have been forced to cling to the TARDIS. Never would have sent them to the end of the universe, to the Silo. The Master would be alive in some form, doing good work, being a good man. The man he was meant to, and deserved to, be.

His aimless wanderings took him to where Jack slept. He wasn't sure if he'd meandered there by accident, or if he was guided there by the TARDIS. He stared at the plain, unadorned door, thinking, wondering.

The door cracked open of its own accord. Just a few inches, enough to show the dim night-light glow inside. With a slow, deep breath, he pushed it open and it slid into the wall easily.

The Doctor looked in at Jack, lying in his old bedroom, with a blanket pulled halfway over his body. Despite what one might have expected of Jack, the room was fairly plain and sparsely furnished. It was dim, with soft night lights glowing along the edges of the floor. The TARDIS hummed, a worried sound, as the Doctor walked over. He stroked the book with the bent spine that Jack had been trying to finish before the Game Station had happened. Heinlein. The Doctor smiled.

He reached out and stroked Jack's temples. The captain looked no different, but he could feel something from him. Pulses of strange dreams. Flickers of light, of the grand foyer of the Academy. The Doctor pressed a little harder, and opened his mind.

_Jack was dreaming of the foyer, the central meeting house of all the different Chapter colleges. It was wide and expansive. The floors were deep green and turquoise tile. The main wall was made of glass, and the pillars which supported the decorated ceiling were crystal. The hall lead up to the auditorium beyond, and from each side glass tubes branched to the various schools. Students were garbed in the clothing of their various factions. When Jack glanced down he could see the silver-gray robes of the Dromeian Chapter. _

_He looked on from Jack's body, talking to a few Prydonian's in their scarlet and orange robes such as the Doctor wore when he was still living on Gallifrey, and a few more Dromeian's. People were laughing. When the Prydonian's departed, walking majestically for the glass tube which lead to their college, Jack stood. There was a disorienting movement of the picture, before Jack turned, and his reflection was seen in one of the high, crystal pillars._

_The Doctor almost laughed himself. This Jack looked nothing like the current, which wasn't surprising. An average built Time Lord looked back with roguish hazel eyes and a shock of ginger hair. He wondered how old Jack was at that point. Probably late seventies - ridiculously young._

_"Korellon, come on," said a voice._

_Jack's vision turned again to see one of his fellow Dromeians beckoning him._

The Doctor pulled his hand away from his temple.

Jack's fingers twitched. His eyes continued to flicker behind his eyelids in REM sleep.

The Doctor fished in his pocket and pulled out a small cylinder. He had a Time Lord sedative in his hand. He reached down and picked up a small delivery gun he'd left beside the bed and set the cylinder inside. It hissed and snapped too, and a blue light appeared and began to blink, telling him it was ready.

He rolled Jack's arm, trying not to think about how Jack's skin was now a pleasant temperature instead of the heat he'd come to be used to with humans, and tapped for a vein. Gripping his upper arm like a tourniquet, he pressed the gun against Jack's skin and pulled the trigger. It injected with a hiss. He pulled the gun away, leaving a small red circle, and stared down at Jack, who hadn't flinched, still deep in the energy enforced sleep. The TARDIS held him now, instead of the borrowed energy of humanity.

The Doctor swallowed. He pulled a stethoscope out of his pocket. Unable to help himself, he pressed it against Jack's chest. First the left, and heard a heart beat steady and slow. He shifted it to the right, and another beat answered.

He pulled away, stowed the stethoscope in his pocket, and sighed. This should have given him such joy. His own hearts felt dead.

He walked back into the hall and down a few doors, to another room. This one was black, but for a light on the hard bed in the middle. The Master lay wearing only a loincloth on a mattress of wrappings ready to be folded around him in his shroud. The clothing he'd been wearing in death was folded neatly beside him, to be wrapped with him.

He looked so cold lying there. The Doctor swallowed. He couldn't wrap him yet, couldn't build his pyre. Not until Jack awoke. It wouldn't be right. With Jack the only other living Time Lord he had to give him the choice to help. He had no idea if Jack would mourn the Master's passing, or if he would be relieved, but it didn't matter. The thing couldn't be done until Jack was conscious.

He stood next to the bed and brushed a hand over Koschei's pale, cold skin. His hand trembled as he settled his palm over his forehead, wishing, wishing, that the Master's mind was there beneath it.

Once again a simple touch and look reinforced it. The Master was dead and gone.

"It's time, isn't it?" he asked the TARDIS.

The TARDIS hummed back, a mournful, sad sound.

Martha was with her family. The Doctor was alone, and the TARDIS was spinning in the vortex. He couldn't risk Jack near anyone he might hurt. He turned and walked back to the captain's room. Slow and deliberate, he removed the leads the TARDIS had provided to monitor him, and rolled back his covers to the foot of his bed. The Doctor picked him up, cradled him in his arms. Jack wasn't light by any means, but the Doctor was stronger than a human.

He took the captain to the console room, which the TARDIS provided close by. As he walked for the elevated platform he looked up at the console, and the glowing time rotor and let out a slow breath. He walked up the steps, preparing himself, and laid Jack on the grating. The Chameleon Arch descended of its own accord, and the Doctor hooked Jack's fob into it, before hooking a lead to the central computer. He typed a moment, then stroked the console. "Are you ready?"

There was a hum and a psychic confirmation.

"Here goes," said the Doctor. He flipped a switch. The Arch sparked a moment, then whirred, lighting up. The Doctor knelt next to Jack. "Alright, old girl. Wake him up."

There was another, louder drone from the TARDIS, and the Doctor watched as Jack's hands twitched. Then his eyes, and they opened. He tilted his head, staring at the Doctor, blinking like he'd never seen him before.

"Doctor?" he asked.

The Doctor nodded. "How are you feeling?"

"Confused. I thought I'd be, y'know, different. With new memories and all that."

The Doctor shook his head. "You're hooked up to the Chameleon Arch. Your Time Lord memories and senses are temporarily compressed and locked away in the fob watch."

Jack blinked, his eyelids heavy. "Everything's kinda soft, too. Fuzzy."

"Heavy sedation," said the Doctor. "It should last maybe five minutes, with the vortex energy inside of you. When those five minutes are up, you'll be a full Time Lord, at the mercy of those senses, and... well, the energy."

Jack nodded. "That was a bit of a trip, when I opened the watch. I don't really remember any of it all that well."

"The Bad Wolf took over," said the Doctor.

"The TARDIS," said Jack.

The Doctor frowned. "The Bad Wolf is the vortex."

Jack shook his head. "From what I remember her telling me, the Bad Wolf is the TARDIS. She's the one Rassilon used to... well, regress me, I think." Jack frowned, like he was trying to remember. "When I opened the watch her soul found me, asked me if she could take over."

"We'll discuss it later," said the Doctor, laying a hand on Jack's shoulder. "Jack, I understand if you hate me for what I did to you, forcing your hand in opening that watch. Even if it was to save the universe, it was still wrong. Your Time Lord side is repressed. If you want I can hook you back up to the Chameleon Arch. It will hurt, but you can be human again, for as long as you like."

Jack stared at him for a long time. The Doctor's inner clock told him it lasted about thirty seconds, but it felt like longer. Ages. Then he shook his head. "No. I don't hate you. I can't. I understand why you ran, now. I can see it all. The Bad Wolf showed me. I'm a bit angry you hid it from me, yeah, and I'm terrified that I'm going to go insane once my five minutes of humanity are up, but... well, anger's not much use, and while a punch on the mouth might make a part of me a bit happier with things, it won't help." Jack swallowed hard.

The Doctor smiled. "Well, I'm glad. I'd hate to have a busted lip."

"I want to be - to stay with you. Learn about myself."

The Doctor's hearts thumped. He squeezed Jack's hand, and Jack returned it with a slight pressure.

"How much time do I have?"

"Maybe three minutes."

"Damn. And I was so hoping to have sex with you while I was still human," he joked, closing his eyes.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Dirty jokes before the end, hmm?"

Jack smiled. "Well, laughing in the face of death is usually how I like to go." With slow, heavy movements, he reached up and clasped the Doctor's arm. "The Master?"

"Dead," said the Doctor, and the word burned in his throat.

Jack's eyes reopened in shock. "Did I...?"

"No. Lucy Saxon."

Something he didn't expect, something like grief, and pity, which should not have belonged on Jack's face after everything the Master had done to him, appeared. "I'm sorry. If I were still in control..."

"No. You can't bring him back." The Doctor swallowed. "You can't."

"Alright." Jack looked relieved and disappointed at the same time.

"One minute."

Jack shifted. "I die on my feet."

The Doctor nodded, and helped him up. Jack swayed, and leaned on the pilots chair. He touched his throat, pressing for his pulse. "Freaky."

"You'll get used to it."

Jack laughed.

He stood, facing the Doctor. The seconds were ticking by. "I'm afraid of it. I'm afraid I'm going to die, and I won't be Jack anymore."

The Doctor's lip quivered. He clenched at the railing. "You'll still be Jack."

Jack shrugged, tears welling in his eyes. "So many good-byes I can't make. But I suppose that's the life, and I can always go back and say them later, even if I won't entirely be me."

"Jack..."

"Things are getting bright. You've got this line about you, Doctor, shining and gold."

"Time line," he replied, hoarse. "Your senses are coming back. Next will be your memories."

"Ten seconds," said Jack. His eyes started to glow. His skin began to shine.

The Doctor trembled more violently, his hand white knuckled on the railing.

"Five," said Jack.

It was wrenched from him before he could stop it. He couldn't watch another one he loved fade from him without saying it. Once, with Rose, was hard enough and he regretted his hesitation in that moment every day. "Jack, I love you!" he cried. "I always have, and always did even when we were apart! I'm so sorry for everything I've done!"

Jack smiled, the glow more pronounced. Tendrils of gas swirled off his skin. The Chameleon Arch sparked, the light began to go out. The fob quaked in its holder.

"You too, Doc. I forgive you."

The fob watch fell from the Chameleon Arch, and the TARDIS hum stopped in an expectant hush as the watch clattered to the grating. It rolled, and disappeared through a gap, rattling into the chords below. Jack was vibrant now, his eyes closed. It wasn't as bright as the Bad Wolf's radiance. It was more subtle, like he was brushed with phosphorescent bacteria. The TARDIS lights flickered, and went dim.

"Jack," said the Doctor, frightened.

Jack opened his eyes, which shone with a bright and terrible light.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Took creative licensing with Jack's Time Lord name. I hope it works! _ Also, love all the great reviews! :) -gives you all a kiss, and a complementary Jack and Doctor plushie set-

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"Jack," said the Doctor. He let go of the railing.

Jack opened his eyes. They burned with an inner light. The Doctor shuddered. It was like reality was shaking, convulsing in the TARDIS. This wasn't the Bad Wolf, this was a Time Lord turned into a god. A far greater god than what the Doctor had been when he'd tapped the power of humanity. The Doctor could only speculate at the power Jack was feeling now, crackling under his skin and through his synapses.

The captain sucked in a deep breath, and tilted his head back. He flexed his arms, and the time shook again, like it was threatening to unravel. The Doctor fought down nausea. This was beyond wrong. He was looking at an abomination, and it terrified him. It was so much worse than when Jack woke up on the Game Station. He knew now he was a fool for ever running away, thinking Jack had been malformed. It was nothing compared to what he was seeing now. He wondered, not for the first time, if he was insane to let this happen. The Doctor knew full and well he could be staring into the eyes of the thing that ended the universe. A Time Lord, a Fixed Point in space and time, with the power of the universe running unchecked in his head. Power that couldn't kill him.

"Jack, please. If you're in there, let it go. Let all the energy go. I know you can!"

Jack raised his hands. Stared at his faintly luminescent skin. Closed them. The world seemed to shudder. Jack sucked his arms in tight, his breathing getting fast.

"So much power," he said, his body shaking. "I can do anything! I can see everything! More than a mere Time Lord. The beginning to the end, what was before, what comes after, everything that is and isn't, and could be. Eternity stretching on and on and on..."

Jack's head tilted back. "I can even feel Gallifrey and what she was, and their voices beyond the Time Lock. I can release them with a thought."

"Jack, _no!"_ The Doctor tried to step forward, but he was met with a barrier. Terror spiked through his system at the idea.

"I can bring back the Master. I can bring back Rose. Everyone we've lost, I can reach through the veil and bring them back to us, can stop all the heart ache from happening."

The Doctor felt sick, even as he felt the leap of desire of having Rose and the Master, and everyone else he'd lost, with him. "No, Jack. Please."

When Jack looked at him it was completely cold and alien, like nothing he'd ever seen or experienced. "Is our kind worth so little to you?"

"Jack." The Doctor took a deep breath. "You know it's wrong. Jack, please, you _know._ Look in your memories, see my mind. _You_ _know that we can't bring them back._ What happened at Torchwood One and on the Valiant... they were fixed points. You _saw_ that, even more than I could. Please, Jack."

Jack took in a deep breath. It reverberated in the air around them. He looked at the Doctor, who could see no more into that ageless, eternal beings eyes than he could when it had been Rose in their spot. Less, even, because this wasn't a frightened human.

Jack's voice was strained, almost frightened when he spoke again. "It's all so much. I just want to _use_ it."

"Jack..." the Doctor's mouth was so dry he could barely speak. "Jack, _please._ Don't go down that path. _Come back to me."_

"I can save them."

The Doctor covered his face, sucking in a hard breath, trying to still his shaking hands.

"Doctor," said Jack, in a final sort of tone.

He peeked through his fingers, knowing what would come next. Jack raised his hand, pointed it at the TARDIS console. He could see the following events in his mind. The TARDIS would be manipulated, whirled through time and space, bringing everyone back, causing paradox's that Jack could cancel and fix with a bat of an eye. And he would stand powerless next to Jack and let it happen, because all of the fight had been ripped from him.

_I am a slave to my desires,_ thought the Doctor.

The TARDIS console opened, the way it had with the slitheen, and silver light poured forth. Jack grunted, one hand twisted into a fist. Then, with a blinding flash that made the Doctor turn his head, a surge of light left Jack, and the TARDIS bucked, her lights flashing bright. The Doctor hit the grating at the same time as the captain.

"JACK!" he screamed, his hearts pounding. He could see Jack's time line, powerful and bright, but only a single time line. He was no longer a fixed point.

The console snapped shut, but the TARDIS continued to heave. Sparks burst from the console. The cloister bell was tolling.

_"No, no, no!"_ He tried to jump up for the console, but he couldn't get his footing.

The energy, he realized. The TARDIS couldn't compensate. He tried to claw his way over to it.

He looked over to see Jack blink and sit up. Then the other Time Lord was up on his feet, pulling himself up against the console.

"Doctor! She can't cope with the energy surge, her compensators are shot!" He reached over and started adjusting something the Doctor couldn't see. "We need to try and balance it out!"

The Doctor grabbed onto the console and heaved himself up. "I'll try to boost the stabilizers if you can activate the venting system and flush it."

"But that kind of energy flush..." Jack blinked, calculating the numbers. "We'll cause a supernova!"

"Got a better idea?" asked the Doctor as he pulled the computer towards him.

"None that'll work that fast! We've got to get her somewhere safe and unpopulated. Throw me your sonic, the navigation is locked."

"Do you know how to use it?" said the Doctor as he fished in his pocket.

"24D, easy," said Jack, catching it easily when the Doctor tossed it. "What do you think I am, some stuffy old senator who's never touched a basic sonic manipulator?"

The Doctor grinned. He looked back at the readouts. "She's going to go critical soon, Jack."

Jack didn't respond. He was busy cooing at the TARDIS. "I'm sorry sweetheart, but I've got to get you into a safe location! Try to work with me here."

The Time Rotor began to groan. The Cloister Bell tolled again. A warning in Gallifreyan appeared on the screen, flashing in front of the Doctor's eyes.

"Jack we're going to blow up the TARDIS if we don't vent the energy soon!"

"Almost there..."

The screen started to flash mauve. "JACK!"

"HA!" The TARDIS bucked one more time, sending the Doctor sprawling over the console and Jack flying down the stairs behind him. There was a roar, and the lights went out and the sparking stopped. The only light was from the misty glow of the time rotor.

The Doctor pushed himself up, staring up at her. "Alright?"

The responding hum was weak, but affirmative. He stroked one of the levers and checked the energy read-outs and was relieved to find that while they were high, they were manageable.

"She won't need a gas up for at least two years, but she's good," the Doctor yelled to Jack. "She's on a regeneration cycle, so she'll be able to travel in an hour or so!" He waited for Jack to say something back, but got no reply. He looked around the console. Jack was crumpled against a coral strut, bleeding from a cut on his head.

He felt his hearts stutter to see him. "Oh, you better not be dying," the Doctor muttered, running over to him. "Not after all of this." He dropped to his knees next to Jack's prone form.

The Doctor turned him. He found his pulse. A little weak. He wondered if the strain would force a regeneration and he found himself wishing beyond everything that he wouldn't. He still had so many years left to him, more than the Doctor could ever hope to have, what with his track record.

"Jack," he said, stroking his face. He leaned down and kissed him. There was a psychic presence in his mind. Jack was there.

Jack opened his eyes. The Doctor sighed in relief. They were the same, if a little older, wiser. Jack sat up, blinking. "I'm still... sort of me. Another surprise." His look of wonderment turned into a hard glare. "Just what in the name of Rassilon and Omega have you been doing to this poor TARDIS? It almost looks like you've been patching her with sellotape!"

"Oi! Doing the best I can, considering. What's it to you, anyway?"

"Graduated from the Academy top of the year in TARDIS mechanics. I'm a technician." He blinked, shaking his head. "Sorry. Don't mean to come unhinged on you. There's so much to sift through. so much that's _me _and not me. My first body is just... memories. It's strange."

The Doctor smiled. "Still lecherous you?"

Jack leered at him. "I'm still looking forward to getting you out of that lovely suit, Doctor."

The Doctor laughed. He'd never had much patience with Jack's flirting before, but now it was a relief to see it hadn't changed. "What's your name?"

Jack raised an eyebrow, smirking a little. "Is that a marriage proposal, Doctor?"

The Doctor shrugged, unable to keep from beaming. Jack was still Jack. That alone could keep him elated for the next half century. "I dunno. I suppose that's tradition for some Time Lords. Is it for you?"

Jack tilted his head, thinking. "I suppose not. My House never really held with that tradition. I won't lie that I'm not a little disappointed, but..."

The Doctor laughed again.

"Will you tell me yours?" Jack asked, serious.

The Doctor felt himself choke a bit. Then he smiled. "I suppose that's how it goes. And it's only fair. Although in my House, that _would_ be a marriage proposal."

Jack grinned. "Well, it's a good thing we're not traditional. It's so strange. The piece of me that remembers Gallifrey... it's smaller. Not as loud as I expected."

"The human side is older," said the Doctor. "I'm actually relieved by that. I like you the way you are."

"Same here."

Jack turned until he was kneeling. The Doctor wasn't about to be put off. "Name?"

The captain laughed. "Alright. Persistent, you are." He took a deep breath like he was trying to get himself ready. "It's been a long time since I've said this. Jacobilunaratvartevesphera."

The Doctor smiled, and repeated the name easily. He liked how it felt on his tongue. "_Bringer of the West Wind._ You went by Jacobi for short?" Jack nodded. The Doctor repeated it again. "What a coincidence. Your parents were very creative in naming you."

"I was loomed," said Jack, pulling up his shirt. He frowned when he examined his perfectly human stomach. "Weird, though, that I've got a belly button."

"I have one too, now. Comes with regeneration." The Doctor paused, drumming his fingers on his knees.  
>"Wouldn't looms have been discontinued by the time you were born?"<p>

Jack shrugged. "I suppose. When the curse was lifted I was already in stasis in my loom, and they didn't suspend me. When one of the cousins died I was born of it and given to two of them to be their child." Jack rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll still expect you to call me Jack. That name was a one shot go."

"What about Korellon?" asked the Doctor.

Jack grinned. "Where'd you hear that? It was my name at the Academy."

"You were dreaming about it. I peeked." The Doctor blushed.

"Looking at my dreams? That's rather intruding, Doctor." Jack leered. "Korellon was the name I chose for myself when I entered the Academy. Like from the Outsider's fairy tale, Korellon the Builder. I'm sure you had a name you picked too, before you became the Doctor."

The Doctor nodded. "Thete. So did you specialize in anything other than mechanics?"

"Doctor," Jack smiled. "You're stalling."

The Doctor's lips twitched. "I suppose I am."

He leaned in and pressed his lips against Jack's ear, before whispering his own name. He pulled away, and Jack nodded. He repeated it also, familiarizing himself with it. The Doctor shuddered as the lyrical syllables flowed easily from his lips, said with devotion and reverence. He blushed, ducking his head to avoid the look in Jack's eyes. He felt hands of just the right temperature touch his chin and make him look up. Jack kissed him, and there was a flash of heat low in his stomach.

The Doctor stroked the back of his head, caressing his hair. "We've got a lot to talk about, you and I."

"It can wait," said Jack. "The Master comes first."

The Doctor nodded, feeling himself sober up. "I understand if you want to sit it out."

Jack shook his head. "No. Despite all the damage he's done, I should be there. And as one of the Last Time Lords, I will be. I won't dishonour Gallifrey in the face of my anger. There's enough Time Lord in me for that."

It was strange to hear the captain speak like that, but the Doctor stood. He held his hand out to Jack, who let himself be helped up. He stroked his face, kissed his lips. "Thank you."

Jack replied in Gallifreyan, the sound strange and wonderful in his voice. _"You're welcome."_


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: And so, it ends. I hope you guys enjoyed the story. Keep a wary eye out for some one-shots that may crop up, continuing the Doctor's and Jack's travels as the last Time Lords. I'm going to continue their story, but under a different title, since Jack has awoken he's no longer hidden away. It'll be a bit of an exploration of some of my favourite episodes from the third and fourth series, and maybe some Torchwood ones too.

Until the next one, dear readers! Keep being magnificent!

`~+0+~`

Night had fallen on the coast of Whales. It was time.

Jack produced a lighter and set fire to the torches which he and the Doctor carried. The flame took easily to the pitched soaked fabric, sending up rippling smoke. Together they walked up to the pyre and touched the flame to it.

The Doctor could smell the burning cotton and pitch from his torch as the red, consuming tongues moved on to the grasses, twigs, and logs. The wood crackled and snapped, the grasses sizzled and curled in between the joints. Slowly, he and Jack moved around the mound of wood, tapping their torches to the logs, and the fire moved upwards to consume the wrapped body of the Master.

When they were done their task and the torches were tossed upon the inferno, he and Jack stood away from the blaze, and watched the hungry flames reach high into the night.

_"And so the fire sends your body off into the After-Lands," _said the Doctor in Gallifreyan, his throat thick, _"where you will join your ancestors in the eternal sleep."_

Jack reached out and took his hand. The Doctor squeezed back. The fire roared, its heat intense on his face, and the Doctor felt it burning inside his head, too. Battles, both grandiose and pathetic, struggles, memories of good times and of the heartsbreaking ones, flitted through his mind. And still the flames grew ever hotter and ever higher, stretching into the inky black expanse of the sky.

Koschei burned, and his spirit floated away.

As the dawn began to appear, black transforming into the deep blue which would usher in the sun, the Doctor reached up and touched his face, felt the now dried tracks of tears. He glanced at Jack and saw the same. Despite the atrocities visited on him, even Jack wept for the passing of one of their own. It made the Doctor's hearts ache. The Welsh shoreline roared nearby, the voice of the sea immutable and ancient, the one true voice of this tiny green and blue planet. It warred with the crackle of the wood as the smoke disappeared into the deep blue between the stars, growing dim in the encroaching dawn.

Later, when there was nothing more than a pile of blackened cinders in the hot sand, he felt Jack draw him into an embrace. The surf crashed against the tide line, and the smouldering remains of the pyre as the red cinders glowed in the gray predawn light and the ashes littered the sand.

The Doctor hugged him back.

"I can't believe it's over," he said, his voice muffled from the coarse wool of Jack's RAF jacket, the scent of wet cotton comforting, mingled with a scent that was redolent of what Jack had been as a human, surrounded by his true Time Lord scent. Jack's arms tightened, his hand stroked the Doctor's back.

"Time to go," said Jack, pulling away and taking his hand. A light wind whipped up from the water, sending the ash flying into the air. The cries of gulls waking in the early morning light added their voices to the chorus of the sea.

The TARDIS was parked up the beach a ways, nestled amongst the dunes and billowing grasses. When they reached her the Doctor looked back, could see the smouldering pile of ashes.

"So where do we go now?" said the Doctor, transfixed by the rolling surf against the distant cliffs.

Jack had reached the TARDIS. He stroked the old blue wood. "We move on. You and I. To the stars, where we're meant to be."

The Doctor let out a slow breath. "Think Martha will come?"

Jack shook his head. "I doubt it. We were tortured up on the Valiant, but she was tortured down below as she walked the Earth, struggling to survive, to eat, to spread the word."

"I'll miss her," said the Doctor. He leaned against the side of the TARDIS. "I don't think I've ever managed to get the point across, of how much she means to me. Oh Rassilon, the things I've done to her." He choked.

Jack stroked his back. "She'll forgive you."

The Doctor sighed. _She shouldn't. She should run before I can do any more damage._

Jack pulled the Doctor close and he pressed him up against the wood. First his mouth was at the Doctor's neck, almost aggressive against his collarbone, and the Doctor felt a moan rising in his throat. Then his lips were on his, and the Doctor felt his head go light. When Jack swiped his lip with his tongue he opened his mouth and their tongues met, exploring, gentle.

Jack pulled away after a moment, panting. Their foreheads were touching, Jack's hands were cupping his jaw, his throat.

"Perhaps our first stop should be the bedroom," said the Doctor, chuckling. "Although, I know this lovely planet called, by complete coincidence, France, and it's wonderful. Big touristy spot in the sixty-first century that's just perfect for the amorous couple." He tapped his lip thoughtfully. "I know of a big hotel there. It's got a zero gravity room and everything."

Jack kissed his throat, humming. "That sounds nice. I'd like to say goodbye to my team before we go. I know you don't approve of Torchwood, even with all the efforts I've been making to fix all of Yvonne Hartman's mistakes, but they're my team. I can't leave them thinking I've abandoned them."

The Doctor nodded as Jack pulled away. They kissed again, soft and chaste.

He didn't need words as he touched the sides of Jack's head. The contact of their foreheads was more than enough, but he touched his temples anyway, and sent his feelings, of _love,_ to Jack, and Jack shuddered, and smiled.

"It seems funny to me now, that humans always need to say things like "I love you." I wish that they could do this, so people just _knew."_ His fingers, a little cold from the frigid dawn, traced the Doctor's jaw as they climbed towards his temple. "Life would be so much easier, for all of them, if they could just _feel."_

Jack's fingers found his temples and he sent his own feelings back. It felt sweet and pure, tasted clear and fresh like water.

The Doctor shuddered, and pulled Jack close for another deep kiss.

"Come on," said the Doctor when the kiss had ended, taking his hand.

He opened the TARDIS door, and the two of them walked inside together.


End file.
